


Under the Influence

by ShayneyL



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:29:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27184534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShayneyL/pseuds/ShayneyL
Summary: Something's made Tom Paris extremely amorous, and Harry Kim is pretty sure it's not his own attractions.
Relationships: Harry Kim/Tom Paris
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Under the Influence

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Whumptober prompt #22, "Do these tacos taste funny?" and "Poisoned."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"I love you, Harry," Libby murmured, her lips warm against Harry's.

Libby's mouth moved lower, softly kissing his neck, then teasing it with warm licks. Harry moaned as she began sucking at that sensitive spot under his jaw that always drove him wild.

"Libby," he sighed, but he gradually grew aware that something was…off. Dimly, it registered that he was dreaming. He was in the Delta Quadrant, Libby was back home in San Francisco, and this couldn't be real. Disappointed, he tried to fall back into sleep, re-capture the dream, but woke to find someone really was kissing his neck. What the…?

"Lights," he yelled, jerking up, and it was blue eyes blinking in the sudden brightness, not Libby's dark eyes, and short blond hair, not her long brown curls. "Tom! What are you doing?" Harry fell back on the bed, relieved that it wasn't an alien intruder or something.

Tom rolled on top of him, kissing him again. Harry was so startled he didn't pull away until Tom's tongue started getting aggressive. He squirmed away. "I think you're lost," he said pointedly. "B'Elanna's cabin is five decks down."

"I don't want B'Elanna, I want you."

Tom's face was flushed, and his eyes looked glazed. Was he drunk? He didn't smell like alcohol. Harry frowned. Something was wrong. "Are you sick?"

"Sick of trying to pretend I don't love you." Tom tried to kiss Harry again. Harry evaded it, and got out of bed. He went to the replicator and ordered an alcohol neutralizing hypo. Wouldn't hurt to try it. Tom had followed him to the replicator, and when he leaned in for another kiss, Harry injected the hypo.

No effect. Tom rubbed his neck. "What is it, an aphrodisiac? I don't need one, not when you look so sexy. You look like you just rolled out of bed."

"Because I did!" Harry fended off Tom's advances, and went to get dressed. He had to take Tom to sickbay. It was an emergency, but not a beam to sickbay in his pajamas kind of emergency.

He got his pants and shoes on, and was working on his shirt when Tom's arms wrapped around him from behind. "Harry, you have the most beautiful shoulders in the Delta Quadrant." He began kissing Harry's shoulders, back, neck…

It made Harry shiver. _It doesn't mean anything_ , he told himself. Tom's not himself. Harry reconsidered asking for an emergency transport to sickbay. But this wasn't exactly a life or death situation. He managed to get his shirt on, and urged Tom out the door.

"Where are we going? Wouldn't you rather go to bed?" Tom was reeling a bit, and Harry had to support him. Even though that made it hard to avoid Tom's eager lips and wandering hands.

Finally they reached the turbolift. "Sickbay."

Tom plastered himself to Harry, and began kissing and licking at his neck again. Harry was getting a little flustered. "Tom, stop."

"Why? You love it." Tom began sucking at Harry's earlobe. "It's turning you on, I can tell," he breathed, hands moving lower, and finding proof.

"It doesn't mean anything, I'm a young man, 90% of my body weight is hormones," Harry said, pushing Tom's hand away.

Thankfully, there was no one waiting for the turbolift when it stopped. Harry hurried out, trusting Tom to follow. He did.

Sickbay was dark when they entered. "Activate EMH," Harry ordered, trying to ignore Tom nibbling and licking at his jaw.

"Please state the nature of the…Mr. Kim, Mr. Paris, this is a sickbay, please find a more suitable location for this activity."

"Doc! Something's wrong with Tom. Help!"

The Doctor raised his eyebrow. "Am I to assume this behavior is not consensual?"

"Tom's drunk or someth—" Harry was cut off by a probing kiss. A very sweet, delicious kiss. He was trying to muster the willpower to push Tom away, when the Doctor forcibly pulled them apart. He turned Tom toward him, and began scanning him.

"Look, Doc, you're really not my type." Tom tried to turn back to Harry.

The Doctor frowned. "Help me get him on a biobed."

It was fairly easy. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, and Tom willing followed him, sitting beside him. "What is it, Doc?" Harry asked. Tom was nuzzling at his hair, ignoring the Doctor and his medical tricorder.

"Do you know what he had for dinner tonight?"

Harry did. They'd eaten together in the mess hall. "Neelix's Tangy Talaxian Tacos," Harry said. "With shredded hlaka and spicy prishic sauce. Was he poisoned?" He'd had the same thing, though he hadn't cared for the dish, and hadn't eaten much. Was he next?

"Not poisoned, exactly. It's more like an allergic reaction. Most humans can consume prishic with no effects. It appears Mr. Paris is not one of them." The Doctor pressed a hypo to Tom's neck, and Tom collapsed against Harry. They got him laid out on the biobed.

"Will he be all right?"

"He should be fine by tomorrow. I'll keep him here overnight, and inform Mr. Neelix that he must avoid serving him anything containing prishic in the future."

"Thanks, Doc." Harry patted Tom's hand.

"What about you, Mr. Kim? Would you like me to heal your hematomas?"

"My what?"

"Hickeys, Ensign. On your neck."

Oh, god. "Yes, please."

* * *

He had an early shift down in engineering the next day. He hoped B'Elanna didn't notice he had a hard time meeting her eyes. He didn't see Tom until dinner, when they met in the mess hall, as usual. "You okay?" Harry asked.

"Fine." Tom was eyeing his dinner like it might be a time bomb. Which it might well be, if yesterday was any example. "I woke up this morning in sickbay. With the mother of all headaches. The Doctor said you brought me in."

"You don't remember anything else?"

"I remember going to bed last night. Then the next thing I knew, I was in sickbay."

Well, that was a relief. He didn't remember what happened.

Harry would never forget. But it didn't mean anything. It most definitely didn't mean he had feelings for his best friend.


End file.
